


Dizzy

by bloodandcream



Series: Sexploration in the bunker [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Bunker, Corsetry, Lingerie, M/M, Shaving, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s first mistake was trying to do it standing up. How hard could it be, he asked himself. The answer, apparently, was very.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dizzy

Dean’s first mistake was trying to do it standing up. How hard could it be, he asked himself. The answer, apparently, was very.

Balanced on one foot with the thigh high stocking gripped in both hands, he started tugging it up and found that the tight garment didn’t just slide into place neatly like he had assumed. It twisted up and snagged, catching on callouses and toenails. Wrinkled and twisted around all wrong, Dean was tottering on one foot before he gave up and leaned against the wall before he gave up again and flopped onto the bed.

He still only had one thigh high mostly up. And ripped. Goddamit. The silky fine material had ladders of tears up and down, plus his big toe was wiggling out of a hole in the foot. Scowling at the flimsy material, Dean tried to pull the other one up better now that he was on his back on the bed. He would not be bested by women’s lingerie.

Doing it on the bed was an improvement. He managed to settle the material mostly smooth and up to the middle of his thigh. There were a few tears, but no major holes. It didn’t look very good. Not like the smiling girls in the vintage magazines with their hosiery, pretty lingerie and corsets all done up nicely.

Huffing, Dean frowned at the messy work. He was sweating a little. He had worked up a sweat pulling on thigh highs. God that was pathetic. This shit was a lot more complicated than it looked. Balefully, he eyed the pale pink corset with a satiny flower pattern slung over the back of a chair in front of his desk. There was no way that was going to happen. He had been over reaching when he pulled that out with the thigh highs.

All the lingerie that Cas had found in the secret compartment of someone’s dresser a few weeks ago had slowly migrated into their shared room. The night gowns, a few pairs of panties, packets of thigh highs, corsets, garter belts. Dean may have done a little research. These things were surprisingly complicated. He didn’t even want to try connecting the garters to the thigh highs. Which he hadn’t even gotten on very well.

Dean snapped the top of one of the stockings. The sheer material rubbed against his hairy legs and dug into his thick thighs. It wasn’t the graceful effect he was going for. Dean was glad that he had decided to try some of the more adventurous pieces of lingerie alone. Cas didn’t need to see him like this. The first attempt didn’t go very well, but he had some ideas how to make the thigh highs work better.

-

Dean wasn’t having very good luck with balancing today. One leg propped up on the wide ceramic lip of the bathroom sink, leg covered in foamy shave cream, he wobbled on one foot and swirled his razor through the water in the basin. There was a tiny patch up one shin that was kind of smooth. But very uneven. Shit, how did girls do this every day. 

There was a lot more hair on his legs than he ever considered. After clogging his razor several times and nicking his leg when he stumbled, Dean decided he had a better idea. Starting up a hot bath, he gathered a few spare blades and lots of shaving cream and settled himself down for a bath. After triple checking that the door to the bathroom was locked.

Shaving his legs smooth took a surprising amount of time and patience. Dean was growing even more frustrated by the end, the tub drain clogging with all the fine hairs. He had to stand to rinse off. Dean contemplated his pubes, wondered about the logistics of shaving ones balls, and decided to skip that. The legs were good enough. He just wanted to get the thigh highs on. That was the only reason he was doing this. Thigh highs. Dean just needed to focus on his goal. He wasn’t a quitter.

Toweling off dry and pulling a pair of pajama pants up to make sure no one caught a glimpse of his smooth legs, Dean darted back to their room. He should probably be doing something more productive. Looking for a hunt. Cleaning sheets. Organizing the pantry. There was no reason for him to be spending time on doing this.

But he wanted to.

Shedding all his clothes back in the bedroom, Dean flopped back on to the bed to pick up a pack of neatly coiled nylons again. Nylons, thigh highs, stockings, they had a lot of different names. Rolling on to his back on clean cotton sheets, Dean groaned when his legs slid together. Completely smooth and bare, it was a weird sensation to feel them rubbing together like that. Those were his legs. And they were fucking silky. It was down right goddam sexy.

Jesus, he had a problem.

Thigh highs temporarily forgotten, Dean pressed his knees together and rubbed his legs up and down. Fuck, it always felt really good to get tangled up with a girl, but it was a completely different thing to be the one with utterly soft skin like this. Twisting over on to his belly, Dean ended up humping his erection against the bed as he slid his legs together. It was supposed to feel weird in a bad way, it was supposed to be wrong to want to be like this, like girls are. But Dean had been reevaluating a few things lately and honestly, he always wore jeans - no one had to know but him and Cas. His legs felt awesome.

Oh god Cas was going to know. The next time Cas got him naked, Cas was going to feel how smooth his legs were. Cas would touch him, stroke calloused broad hands down Dean’s soft legs. Maybe Dean could get Cas to kneel between his thighs and kiss his way down the inside of them. Cas always liked squeezing his thighs.

Dean was so caught up in his fantasy that he didn’t hear the click of the door. Head burrowed in his pillow, hands clenching the sheets, hips rocking down, all he could think about was Cas’ teeth in the meat of his thigh when the bed dipped and he nearly fell off the bed rolling over.

Cas was half crouched on the bed, one knee up, paused as Dean dropped out of his fantasy and crashed back in to reality. He was wearing a faded Ac/Dc t-shirt and grungy jeans and it was just not fair. He’d been stealing all of Dean’s clothes. And apparently stealing dead men’s lingerie. Dean had no idea what his life had become.

Stretching out on his back, legs tangled up in sheets, cock hard and waving proudly, Dean just groaned.

“Hey Cas, thought you and Sam were in town?”

“We were. Now we’re back. Do you want alone time or do you mind if I join you?”

“You better get your sweet ass naked and get over here.”

Dean didn’t miss the little flick of Cas’ tongue in the corner of his lips. He pushed off the bed and stripped in a few seconds before crawling back on and straddling Dean’s waist.

“Something feels different.”

“Uh.”

Cas scrunched his nose and looked around.

“Were you trying more things on?”

“Maybe. I uh… might have shaved my legs.”

Cas’ lips parted on an ‘o’ as he scooted down Dean’s legs and fanned his fingers out over the top of Dean’s smooth thighs.

“Ah. They’re so soft.”

“Didn’t really look right in the thigh highs all hairy.”

“You were trying on the thigh highs?”

“Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you wearing them now?”

That was a very good question. Because Dean was impatient. Because he got distracted by the feel of his own legs rubbing together. Cas slid further down the bed, nudging Dean’s legs apart and settling between them, running his hands all over Dean’s skin and god it never felt like this before. It seemed somehow so much more sensitive. Cas’ nails scraped down the inside of his thighs, hands curling behind his calves and squeezing.

Dean couldn’t help closing his hand around his cock and stroking loosely as Cas took in the sight of him. Then Cas was kneeling up and reaching over beside Dean’s head for the pack of thigh highs he’d left there.

“May I?”

“You wanna help with those?”

“Yes.”

That actually might be a hell of a lot easier than trying to put them on himself.

“Go ahead.”

Cas just looked at him with those big wide eyes as he carefully opened the packaged and pulled the thigh highs out, unrolling them to their length and stretching them a little, stroking the fabric between his fingers.

“You gotta be kind of careful with those, I completely ruined a pair already.”

“I can be careful.”

Dean felt vulnerable on his back with his legs spread as Cas took one of his feet in hand and started oh so slowly pulling the silky material up. This was weird. This was really fucking weird, and so hot. His cock twitched in his hand, pre come beading at the tip, as Cas slowly and delicately rolled the stocking up. Holy shit it felt amazing. It slid up his bare legs easily as Cas smoothed the material running his palms over Dean’s muscle and situating the band at the top neatly at mid thigh. Nimble fingers tugged at the top and flattened in out, Cas running his fingertips lingering over Dean’s thighs and tickling down the crease of his hip.

“You uh, you do that a lot better.”

Cas seemed genuinely pleased with himself for that. “Thank you.”

Dean folded the one leg up and put his other foot in Cas’ lap. He liked it when Cas took care of him like this, when he was the center of Cas’ very focused attention. Carefully, reverently, Cas eased the other stocking up his leg. Dean relaxed back with his arms folded under his head, cock tapping against his belly but he was just loose and drugged on the look Cas was giving him. Cas’ hands were warm running over the sheer material, kneading into the muscle of his leg, dragging feather light back up.

Extending one leg, Dean dragged a foot up Cas’ side and watched him give a full body shudder as he groaned and bit his lip. Fuck. Cas’ eyes darted to the chair in front of the desk. The one with the corset still slung over it.

“Were you going to put that on too?”

“Honestly it took me too goddam long to figure out the thigh highs.”

Dean didn’t want to say that it was kind of intimidating. That he felt a little ridiculous it was so much effort to get the thigh highs on. But Cas could probably read him like a fucking book.

“I could help.”

“You want to?”

Cas nodded his head eagerly, crawling over to the edge of the bed and standing. His cock bounced and stood out straight in front of him. Dean was going to scoot over to the edge of the bed and stand up so Cas could get him all trussed up, but god, now that he had the stockings on his smooth legs it felt awesome and he couldn’t help sprawling on the bed just sliding his legs together.

“Kneel at the head of the bed, hands on the frame.”

Dean snapped to attention at the tone in Cas’ voice. Cas was watching him, one eyebrow crooked up and the corset held carefully in his hands. Flipping over, Dean scrambled to follow his orders. Waited in position. It was even easier to enjoy these sorts of things when Cas took the lead, took the responsibility, took the control from him.

There were guns and weapons hung on the wall above the head of the bed, but Cas told him to put his hands on the frame. Yeah that worked too. Dean positioned his knees apart and canted his ass back, looking over his shoulder at Cas. The bed creaked with their weight, Cas kneeling behind him between his thighs, one arm curling around Dean’s waist and pressing against his belly.

“I like it when you try new things with me Dean.”

Cas’ lips were soft against the curve of his shoulder, breath on his neck making a shiver trip down his spine, teeth pulling at the lobe of his ear. Dean pushed his ass back, but Cas moved away from it.

“I like it too Cas.”

“Let me know if I tie this too tight.”

“I’ve never had one on before.”

“Just let me know if it’s not comfortable.”

“Ok.”

Cas wrapped the stiff material around his torso. Dean wasn’t sure which part was the front and which was the back, there were a bunch of laces down one side but then a row of clasps on the other side. Were you supposed to lace it first, or clasp it? Cas knelt closer and hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder, pulling the open side around him and the clasps were in front. Snapping several on the bottom, Dean didn’t think it felt that tight. Cas moved up the front, rubbing his face against Dean’s neck, teasing him as deft fingers snapped up all the clasps.

It was a snug fit, yeah, but not really restrictive. Dean wiggled around, tested it out. Cas leaned back and pushed between his shoulder blades.

“Be still.”

Leaning forward, Dean was going to ask what Cas was up to when all the air was pushed from his lungs. The middle of the corset tightened around his waist, then tightened even more, squeezing almost painfully. Cas grunted and pulled at the laces in the back, tightening the top, tightening the bottom, adjusting the middle. Fuck where did he learn how to do this. Or was he just making it up. Either way, the corset kept getting tighter.

Dean groaned and whined as Cas tested out the laces. His chest was constricted so much he couldn’t draw in a deep lungful of breath. Shallow panting breath was the best Dean could get and he was already growing light headed for it. Maybe it was too tight. The material was stiff around him and he couldn’t curl forward or move like he was used to.

Cas shifted closer behind him and Dean felt a hard cock nudging between his legs. Cas’ strong arms wrapped around him, hands dragging over the corset, grasping his cock and teasing at the head.

“Is that tight?”

Dean’s voice was light and breathy, “Yeah.”

“Is it too tight?”

He was already feeling a little dizzy but it only made his skin tingle, made him hyper aware of the hard slide of Cas’ erection between his thighs and how fucking aching his own cock was. He’d never felt like this before, short of breath, confined in pretty satiny clothes that were deceptively tough. It was new and strange and his skin was dotted with goose bumps as Cas languidly stroked him.

“No, no it’s good.”

Cas pulled back and swatted his ass.

“On your back.”

Dean pushed off the headboard and rolled onto his back, trying to figure out how to wriggle in the corset, smooth thighs rubbing and his stomach held in tight. He was squirming, he knew. He couldn’t care.

Cas resettled between his legs, pushing his thighs up, kissing from his knees to his hips. Fuck, yes, his breath was hot through the silky nylons, lips and tongue and teeth gentle enough not to tear, but nipping and licking a path upward. Cas kept humming and nuzzling his face against Dean’s legs, barest hint of stubble scratching through flimsy material, fingers caressing the backs of his thighs as Cas spread him wide.

Dean couldn’t hold back a whimper when Cas finally put those plush fucking lips around his cock, tongue flicking around and one hand squeezing the base as Cas continued petting his thigh with the other hand. Dean had never really noticed the texture of Cas’ hands, not like this, rough against newly smooth skin in such sensitive places, dragging down the inside of his thigh.

“Shit Cas I can’t, would you, would you please - “

“I’ll take care of you Dean.”

“I want you to fuck me in this.”

Cas licked his lips, hand still pumping Dean’s cock, and christ his body was lit up and feeling tingly. Cas knelt up, body lithe and tan for all his time spent in the sun flexing his muscles as a human. He looked even more masculine next to Dean like this and it might make Dean feel self conscious if it wasn’t so fucking hot. He had conflicted feelings about the carnation pink satin corset and the beige thigh highs and what he must look like to Cas, hard and begging and blushing. But he thoroughly enjoyed the flex of Cas’ arm muscles curling around one of his thighs, the ripple of Cas’ stomach as he twisted and flexed, pulling lube out of the night stand and slinging one of Dean’s legs over Cas’ shoulder.

Dean had the pillow in a death grip under his hands, body thrumming with this new excitement. Cas’ blue eyes were wide as he held Dean’s stare, slicked up his fingers and got comfy between Dean’s thighs while looking at him the whole time. Dean gripped his knee over Cas’ shoulder to leverage himself, pulling his hips up, cock bouncing on his stomach, his other leg spread out wide and pinned down with one of Cas’ hands on the thigh.

His voice was a low rumble of consideration that skittered over Dean’s skin as Cas circled slick fingers around his hole, eyes locked the whole goddam time and it was hypnotic to Dean. He couldn’t look away. Breath hitching when a finger breached, pushing deep and it was barely noted, two and that stretch made his muscles seize aching for more. Cas stared. Dean tried to take a deep breath to calm down but he couldn’t get air lower than his chest, shallow pant pants and faint pleadings, hips rolling up. He was feeling a little dizzy with the pleasure, high on the edge of climax and feverish with their taboo games.

Cas blinked and drew a raspy breath, pulling back and taking the twist of his talented fingers with him. Slapping the inside of Dean’s thigh, Cas pushed his leg back down.

“Up again, kneel with hands on the bed frame.”

Dean rolled over stiffly, movement limited, the corset pinching his waist so small and squeezing his ribs. But Cas’ hands were there, guiding, pulling him up and getting him steady. Strong hands, caring hands, they soothed over Dean’s hips and the bare smooth tops of his thighs and the tangled material of the nylons that were falling down and scrunching above his knees. Cas nudged his legs apart and made a place for himself there. Held on to Dean’s hips. Held him up. Dean was floating, Cas’ hands and heat the point of contact with reality.

Head tipped back, lolling against Cas’ shoulder, Dean shook and exhaled what little breath he held when he felt Cas pushing in, slow and steady, easy glide that tapped instantly into the wavering thrum of pleasure and amplified, suddenly right there, fever bright on the cusp. He just couldn’t seem to make it over. The taut pleasure at the base of his spine was painful as it kept hardening into more desperate need. Cas thrust deep and gripping Dean’s hips as he rocked their bodies together, lips tumbling kisses over the curve of his shoulder.

“Cas I - I can’t - I -“

He was so fucking close it was painful and Dean kept trying to drag air in but his chest burned for it. Cas went still, cock buried deep, hands stroking over Dean’s sides. Dean felt the pressure around his chest ease, heard the whisper of the laces and Cas was loosening the corset. It felt blissful to heave in air as soon as his ribcage could expand.

“Oh holy shit fuck me Cas fucking -“

Dean screamed when Cas ripped another lace loose and slammed into him. Gasping, he had the headboard in a death grip as his whole body seized up tight, oxygen rushing through his body and he just _felt_ everything deeply, everywhere, Cas’ cock striking against that sweet spot urgently and it was overwhelming.

Shoulders arched back, cock slapping against his stomach, every muscle tight, Dean climaxed with a hoarse cry as his body washed over with relief and release, the corset sliding down his torso as Cas let go to grab his waist and pound into him again and again through it. Slumping forward, arms shaky, Dean whimpered as Cas bit his shoulder and pulled Dean flush against him. Sweaty and feeling like he was resurfacing as oxygen eased the cotton fuzz of his mind, limbs gone languid with the euphoric pleasure, Dean nudged Cas back to stretch out on the bed next to him.

Giddy, voice rough, he couldn’t manage to say anything.

Cas seemed to be in about the same state.

Shoulders pushed together, both of them on their backs, Dean slung a leg over Cas’ thigh and slapped his chest as a ‘thanks buddy’ when he still couldn’t manage to talk. Cas hummed, placing his hand over Dean’s and lacing their fingers together. The thigh highs were sliding down his legs and Dean had no idea how he was supposed to clean jizz off the corset. They were both breathing heavy, holding on to each other, sticky.

Even though he was laying flat on his back, Dean was dizzy.


End file.
